


D.C. Revealed

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories I [13]
Category: ER, X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder tells John what happened in SR 819.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D.C. Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately.
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and Crysothemis for beta reading and friendship.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening. John Carter had actually gotten off work on time. He came home, made a sandwich, grabbed a beer and headed down to this room. Propping up in his bed, he took out the envelope that had arrived today. Two weeks ago Walter had started writing him letters. Honest to God love letters. Letters like you hear about in books. Not something that John Carter had ever expected to receive.

The first one had been one page, hand written. Walter's handwriting had looked a little shaky, but he'd told John that he was still fighting off the flu. The second had come two days later. The third, two days after that. And it had continued, with today being the seventh letter in a period of fourteen days. Just as John started to open it, he heard the doorbell ring. He ignored it. Kerry was in her room, and it was her house. She could answer the door.

He opened the envelope carefully. Two pages. Handwritten. The handwriting was looking stronger. That was good. Walter must be feeling better.

Someone was pounding on the front door. It was an amazing fact, but apparently Kerry could sleep through just about everything. Or maybe she was just going deaf. That would explain the decibel level of her music in the mornings.

John sighed and set the letter aside. It didn't sound like whoever was going away.

When he opened the door a tall man, thirties, in a nice suit flashed a badge at him, and uttered the name Mulder. The letters FBI registered vaguely, but the name rang in his ears like an alarm. Mulder. The son-of-a-bitch who'd ruined his weekend plans with Walter. Fucking Mulder was standing in his home. "What's this about?"

"Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner."

John felt his penis stiffen beneath his boxers. Fuck. He was worse than one of Pavlov's dogs. He grasped his robe more tightly around him. He saw Mulder's eyes widen in surprise and the rage he'd been holding since that Friday when Walter had canceled came boiling to the surface.

His fist connected with Mulder's nose hard. Hard enough to hurt his hand. "Shit!" John cradled his hand against his chest, his knuckles aching. Mulder's initial yelp turned into a groan of pain and John felt a strong sense of satisfaction. He'd hurt him. Good.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Mulder's voice was muffled behind his hand.

"You almost cost me Walter." John spit the words out between clenched teeth. It was taking all his self-control not to punch the bastard again.

"I'm the one trying to save him! I'm the only one trying to save him!"

"Save him? Is that what you call running around and poking your nose into things that are none of your business?"

"I'm here because Walter Skinner is my friend and I care what happens to him."

"If you cared about him you wouldn't do the shit you do! Do you have any idea what you've cost him?"

"I ran all over fucking D.C. and half of Virginia trying to find someone who would tell me how to save him. I spent 24 hours in hell, trying to keep him from dying!"

John Carter opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Dying? Mulder had just said Walter was dying.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

John turned and saw Kerry coming out of her room. Her red hair was tied back, and her pale blue robe flowed around her legs, almost tangling against her cane. She pulled the cloth closer to her body and walked up to them.

"Did you say something about Walter dying?" she asked Mulder.

Mulder looked confused. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Kerry Weaver. I live here."

"Oh." Mulder dabbed at his nose which was bleeding a little. "You're the one who paid for his first ticket to D.C." Mulder pointed at Carter with one hand.

"You're about to drip blood on my rug. Why don't we take this into the kitchen where I can get you some ice?"

Kerry didn't wait for an answer. She simply walked into the kitchen. Mulder followed her. John stood near the doorway, frozen. His heart was somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. His stomach was beginning to pitch and roll. It wasn't the flu. Walter hadn't had the flu.

Kerry poked her head out of the kitchen. "Carter, get in here."

John numbly moved toward the kitchen.

Mulder sat on a stool at the butcher block. He held a dishcloth filled with ice against his nose. Kerry put water on the stove. "So who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Agent Fox Mulder of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"And what's your connection to Walter?"

"He used to be my boss. I thought he was a friend."

"You said he's dying?" John's voice sounded tiny even to his ears.

"He was. He actually died, but then he was living again. They don't know why. You didn't know anything about it?"

John shook his head. He stared at the pattern in the linoleum on the floor. There was a roaring in his ears. He couldn't swallow. He felt cold. Really, really cold. Something warm touched his arm.

"Oh, Jesus, he's going into shock." Kerry's voice sounded very far away.  
***

John realized he was lying down. There was a thick blanket over him. He was not in his bed. The room was bright. He turned his head and saw Kerry sitting in a chair next to him.

"Hey, you're back with us."

"What happened?"

"You passed out. How are you feeling?"

"Nauseated."

"I'll get you some ginger ale. That should help." Kerry got up. She motioned to Mulder. "You sit here. I think you two need to talk."

Mulder sat down. His nose had stopped bleeding. John found himself staring into eyes that looked kind of green. The face was probably not bad usually, but the nose was pretty puffy and red at the moment. He had this very sensual lower lip.

John Carter smacked himself mentally. Shit. He was checking the guy out. How sick was that?

"I think we had a miscommunication when I first came in," Mulder said.

"No shit."

Mulder sighed and looked away. Then he shrugged off his jacket, slung it over the back of his chair and leaned forward, looking John in the eyes. "I care about Skinner. He's been someone I could trust at the Bureau. That's saying something. Three weeks ago someone tried to kill him. I want to know why. I came here because I thought maybe you'd be able to help me. Obviously I was wrong."

"He told me he had the flu." John Carter sat up, pushing the blanket off his chest, down to his lap. "What happened?"

"Have you heard of nano-technology?"

"Sure. There's lots of talk about it theoretically in medicine right now. Microscopic robots that could go in and fix the body."

"Someone infected Skinner with nanocytes. His blood. The things were building walls in his vessels. Walls of carbon."

"Oh my God." John Carter had a vision of distended and discolored veins. His brain would have been starved for oxygen. His heart and lungs laboring to feed a body with blood that couldn't move. "How did they stop it?"

There was a long silence. "They didn't. He died. The doctor said that his heart stopped, he wasn't breathing, then suddenly he was."

Walter had come back. Again. A throb began at the base of John's skull. He could almost hear it.

"When he was dying, he gave me your name. He asked me to let you know when he died."

John nodded. Kerry stood in the doorway holding a glass of pop. John motioned for her to come in, shifting his feet off the couch so she could sit next to him. "Why are you here?"

"Those things are still in his body. They're still in his blood. I have to find out who put them there. Who controls them. He refused to let me investigate. I don't know why."

Walter had warned him, told him someone could kill him. They hadn't talked about it much since that first weekend together, but it was always there, always in the background. Surely Mulder had to know that. He worked with Walter. If Walter had warned him off, it was with good reason. John snorted. "Well, how dense are you?"

Mulder sat back, looking annoyed. "Excuse me?"

"They must have told him they'd kill him if you investigate. Doesn't that seem logical?"

"But I could stop whoever it is. I could save him."

John brushed his hair back with both hands. Mulder couldn't be this stupid. "They've already killed him once. Why should he take the chance?"

"So you'd rather he sit there and let them hold a gun to his head for the rest of his life? Or until whoever it is doesn't need him anymore, and it becomes more convenient for him to be dead?" Mulder's voice got louder. "What the fuck are you to him anyway? Huh? What?"

John looked at Mulder. It would be so easy to just say it. He knew that Walter trusted this man, even if he did want to kick his ass most of the time. Walter had described Mulder as the most infuriating and the most capable person all tossed together in one body. A mix that at its best made him a driven investigator, and at its worst made him blind to everything but what he wanted to see and believe.

Kerry took John's hand. He looked at her and she smiled and nodded. John Carter took a deep breath. "We're lovers."

For several minutes the silence was deafening. Mulder didn't move an inch. John wasn't sure Mulder was still breathing. Then he got up from his chair and walked away, heading into the kitchen. John and Kerry waited, and a few minutes later he came back out. His face was damp, as were his cuffs and collar.

He walked up and stood in front of them. "You're telling me Walter Skinner is gay."

John smiled and shook his head. "No. I'm telling you we're lovers. I don't think Walter's gay."

"He's probably bisexual," Kerry said.

Mulder sat down. "You're gay."

John shook his head. "He's the first man I've ever been with. I…I always thought I was straight. I've had a lot of girlfriends, and this is the first time I've ever been attracted to a man. But…I am."

"You'd never been with a man?"

"That's right."

"Did Skinner seduce you?"

John fought not to laugh. Mulder was more confused than he'd been when he first found himself in bed with Walter. "A little. I wasn't unwilling."

Mulder got up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. "This is getting me nowhere. I'm sorry I bothered you. I've got to get a flight back to D.C." He grabbed his coat off the rack near the door.

John got up and went to him, taking him by the arm to stop Mulder from heading out. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going back to D.C. and I'm going to find the bastard who's got his finger on the trigger. I'm going to save Skinner."

"Talk to him. Talk to Walter."

"I tried. He won't listen. He closed all chances of an official investigation. He thanked us and sent us on our way."

"Us?"

"Scully. My partner."

John nodded. "That's right. He's mentioned her, too."

Mulder looked at John. "If you could get him to let me help, we can stop this. I know we can. If he knows who it is, I'll find a way to stop it."

"You should go with him, John." Kerry got up from the couch. "Both of you should go to Walter and talk to him. If there's a way that Mulder could save him, I know you'd want that. If there isn't, then maybe you and Walter can convince him to butt out."

"I'm supposed to be at work at 6:30 tomorrow morning."

"I'll tell them you had a family emergency. I'll find someone to cover for you. You go get packed, and I'll call and get you a ticket. What flight are you going back on, Mr. Mulder?"

John knew better than to argue with Kerry. She'd made up her mind what the best course of action should be, and there would be no changing it. He headed downstairs to his room. He could hear Mulder sputtering and protesting, and Kerry's calm voice not giving an inch.

When he got to his room he saw the letter lying on the bed. He sat down and picked it up. Walter's neat handwriting filled the page. It began as all the letters did, 'Dear John Carter.' He couldn't read any more. Not right now.

He grabbed his backpack and began tossing clothes and underwear into it. A days worth should do it. His shaving kit came out of the bathroom and joined the clothing. Then he took the letter, and the six others that he had stashed in the drawer of his night stand. He tucked them into the front pocket of the pack.

He dressed quickly, not bothering to brush his teeth. He carried the untouched sandwich and beer back up to the kitchen. Mulder was waiting at the door, impatiently. Kerry patted John's back. "It's going to be all right, John."

"Thanks for everything, Kerry." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. She looked a little flustered, but smiled. He'd never done that before, but she'd come to his rescue twice now. And she was still the only person who knew about Walter. The only one he'd told.

Mulder said virtually nothing as they rode in the cab together to the airport. John picked up his ticket at the counter and they went to the gate together. John bought a cup of coffee out of a machine and found a seat near the windows. He heard a lot of thumping and turned to see Mulder kicking a vending machine. He finally gave up and put his dollar bill into a machine that sold pop, buying some kind of cola.

"What did you want?" Carter asked when Mulder sat down to wait for their flight.

"Huh?"

"What wouldn't the machine give you?"

"Iced tea."

"Oh." John watched a large jet move up toward one of the nearby gates. The orange batons of the ground crew glowed in the dim light below.

"Skinner talked about me?"

John nodded.

"Like…what?"

"Said you are a good agent, but you would drive a saint to drink."

Mulder looked at John. "Really? He said I was good?"

John burst out laughing. This was definitely the man Walter had described. He heard only what he wanted to hear.

"Why is that funny?"

"I'm sorry. Yeah, he really did say you were good. And he said your partner's hot."

Mulder's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. "He said Scully's hot?!"

John smiled. Walter had described Agent Dana Scully as red-haired, tiny, and very attractive. He'd also said she was, in many ways, a better agent than Mulder. Far less likely to get herself killed anyway.

"Shit," Mulder mumbled.

John Carter sat back and waited for the boarding call.


End file.
